


Omelets, Try #451

by F-117 Nighthawk (F117_Nighthawk)



Series: Hell is Anything but Blue [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clint can cook however, Extremis Pepper Potts, Extremis Tony Stark, F/M, Fluff, Plot What Plot, Tony Stark Can't Cook, omelets mostly, seriously this is just pure fluff, thats just a given for this series at this point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 05:03:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14663877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F117_Nighthawk/pseuds/F-117%20Nighthawk
Summary: Tony is roused from an inventing haze by the need for food and sleep.Food doesn't go so well, but sleep does.





	Omelets, Try #451

**Author's Note:**

> I have this running joke in my head that Tony is completely incapable of cooking omelets, despite them being his favorite food, no matter how many times he tries.

Tony blinked bleary eyes at the schematics floating around him. He rubbed at his eyes and reached for where he thought he’d left his coffee. He ended up staring forlornly at the wrench he had just attempted to sip from. “U, can you get me some more coffee?”

The bot chirped and maneuvered its way through the maze of holograms to the mini kitchen. Tony yawned and tried to focus on the upgrade to Nat’s Widow’s Bites that was floating in the middle of the room. He was so  _ close _ to finally figuring out a way to let her control the power levels precisely but he was missing the correct material. This would be so much easier if all of them had Extremis, but of course he was the only super-awesome-partially-technopathic-cyborg on the team. He wondered how Extremis would interact with her bastardized Red Room serum (yes, he’d managed to read her  _ heavily _ redacted file, sometimes he got bored and used his little backdoor into SHIELD) and then started wondering how it would affect Cap, would it even affect him at all? Wait what about Bruce, could it help him with the Hulk? What would it do to Thor--

His stomach interrupted him with a loud growl. U appeared at his side with the requested coffee, beeping happily. He patted the bot just above his claw and sent his thanks over Extremis as he chugged the piping hot coffee. U nuzzled his leg for a second before trundling back to the machining he’d been doing before Tony had requested his coffee. 

“Sir, if I may—“

“You may.” He was pretty sure if the AI had a face JARVIS would have been glaring at him. He sent a cheeky smile to the nearest camera.

“It may be wise to eat, Sir, as you have not in almost eighteen hours. It would also be wise to sleep as you have not—“

“Ah ah ah, one thing at a time, J.”

“Then at least go up to the common floor—“

“Nah, I can make something down here.” He hopped off the workbench he’d been sitting on and meandered his way through files to the mini kitchen. He closed a few of them as he went, scrapped ideas for the Widow’s Bites, a few days old projects he’d forgotten to close or that had been interrupted by the assemble order last week or Pepper’s early return from Japan three days ago with a literal suitcase full of papers for him to sign. 

A noise like an exasperated sigh came over the workshop speakers. “I would much prefer it if you ventured upstairs, Sir, and I believe Captain Rogers would as well. He has been asking about your whereabouts since last night.”

Tony opened the fridge and scanned its contents. “Yeah but consider this: no.” He pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge and set them by the stove, then grabbed some vegetables and placed them next to it. He grabbed the clean pan from the sink and turned the stove on. 

There was silence from the bots for a minute as the greased the pan with butter and threw the vegetables in, but he could feel JARVIS’s nonexistent raised eyebrow and Dum-E slowly moving towards the fire extinguisher. “Oh come on, guys, it was  _ one time.” _

“Far more than one time, Sir.”

Okay maybe it had been several times. Many times. Most times. He wasn't going to say all times, but it wasn’t unlikely. But the “set so many things on fire he had to cover up a burn at the board meeting the next morning” had only happened once.

....at least, once in relation to omelets. 

“It’ll be  _ fine.” _

“Sir, I don’t believe I have ever seen you succeed in making yourself an omelet.” 

“Well, this time’ll be different.”

He tried. He really did. But somehow, somewhere between pouring the whisked eggs into the pan and attempting to flip the egg-patty something caught fire. The vegetables sitting next to the pan went up in flames, the eggs in the pan shriveled into smoke and ashes, and Dum-E doused him and the stove with fire suppressant.

Tony coughed and wiped white foam off his face. “This is an  _ electric stove. _ How the  _ fuck.” _

There was laughter behind him; he turned to find Clint leaning against the doorway to his shop, holding his stomach and laughing. “Oh my god, Tony, when you said you were cursed when it came to omelets I thought you were kidding. How did you even  _ manage _ that?”

“Pure skill,” he grumbled. He glared at the remnants of his food. So much for that plan. His stomach, still attuned to the smell of eggs and onions, growled at him again. 

An idea popped into his head and he put on his best puppy dog face as he turned around. “Cliiiiiint—“

Clint rolled his eyes and interrupted before Tony could say anything more than his name. “Yes, I will make you an omelet, but only if you come upstairs.”

Tony grinned and waved a still foam covered arm in the motion that signaled JARVIS to save and shut the workshop down. “You are the best, Katniss.”

He followed Clint into the elevator that went straight to the Avengers’ floors, brushing foam off himself along the way. Dum-E or U would clean it up eventually. “So, why were you down in my shop?”

“I wanted to know how you were doing with the new upgrades to Nat’s Bites. Also Steve’s getting antsy because you haven’t been on the common floor for a day or two, despite Pepper saying you’ve actually managed to sleep in a bed.” Tony rolled his eyes at the Captain’s mother henning. 

The elevator doors opened to the common floor of the tower and the darkness outside the windows. Tony blinked at nighttime New York City. When the hell had it become night? What time was it? Numbers blinked in blue in the corner of his vision. 2153, Friday. He’d missed a  _ day? _ He could’ve sworn it was Thursday.. 

JARVIS politely informed him via Extremis that he hadn’t slept in almost 48 hours and while that was nowhere near a record, he should go to bed. There was a moment of back and forth which ended with in stalemate. Meanwhile, Clint had pulled omelet ingredients out of the fridge and had set about making it.  “How  _ are _ the Bites coming along?”

Tony slipped onto a stool at the kitchen island and tapped a finger on the built in holoscreen. The schematics for the Bites appeared without prompting. “I’ve upgraded the batteries, couldn’t use an arc reactor because a, not letting SHIELD get that still, b, it’s not small enough to fit on her hands and putting it in say her belt buckle would get really heavy and I’d have to redesign her whole suit--anyway, yeah upgrading the batteries means she’s got a hell of a lot more  _ bite _ for her bark,” he shot a grin at Clint, who only rolled his eyes at the pun, “which then led to designs for a way to control the output better, which I have, but I can’t think of a material lightweight but strong enough to not immediately get crushed when she punches someone and yet has enough conductivity....wait.”

Having JARVIS directly connected to his brain was  _ wonderful. _ The material sheet for the exact type of nanotube he’d been thinking of appeared next to the schematics. The schematics themselves blinked and simulated electricity sparked down the new wires. “Tests appear successful, Sir.”

Tony did a fist pump and grabbed the omelet Clint had just taken off the stove. “Send that to the bots and have them start making her a prototype.” He then took a bite of omelet and let out a small moan of contentment. “Holy shit, Clint, I love you.”

“What’s Pepper gonna say about that?” Clint teased. 

“‘Thank god because I’m almost as bad at making omelets as Tony?’”

“Is she really?”

“Well, she doesn’t somehow almost every time set something on fire, but she does charr them a lot.”

Tony wolfed down all the omelets that Clint fed him, a small part of him wondering when he had last eaten and then deciding it didn’t care because  _ omelets. _ After Clint ran out of eggs (somehow, Tony was fairly certain that JARVIS had bought more eggs the day before, a bunch of superheroes went through food way too quickly, but, here they were) Tony tried to stifle a yawn and very visibly failed.

Clint hauled him off the stool and pushed him towards the elevator. “Go on, sleep, I’ll tell our resident mother hen you’ve been fed and tucked into bed.”

Tony turned in the elevator and grinned a sleepy grin. “What, you’re not coming with to tuck me in?”

Clint rolled his eyes as the elevator doors closed. “I’m sure Pepper is much more capable of that than me.”

The doors opened into the penthouse and revealed the redhead in question sitting on the couch in her pajamas, tapping away on a StarkTab. He sauntered over, letting the yawn out as he leaned down next to her, ending it with a kiss to her temple. 

She leaned her head back and looked up at him with a soft smile. “Hi, Tony.”

“Clint says you should tuck me into bed.”

She snorted. “Does he now.”

“Mhm. And the Capsicle says so too.”

“Well, if Steve says so it’s practically an order, isn’t it.” She swung her legs off the couch. “Go put on something other than those grease stained jeans I know you’re wearing and I’ll join you once I’m done this email.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tony sent her a jaunty salute and did just that. He threw his jeans (really, when  _ had _ they gotten so dirty? He swore they’d been clean when he put them on....oh man how long ago did he put them on. Now he was surprised Pepper hadn't made him take a shower) down the laundry chute and grabbed a pair of Stark Industries sweatpants. He yawned again and flopped down on the bed, sending a poof of air through the sheets. 

He tried to say “Dim the lights, J,” but it got muffled by another yawn. The AI did so anyway, undoubtedly sensing his intent. He tried to stay awake for a little longer, but being in his own bed, with the promise of Pepper in the other room, his family safe and JARVIS watching over them, caused him to drift off to sleep.

Pepper leaned against the doorway after setting her StarkTab on the charger. “You didn’t even make it under the covers.” He was out like a light already, barely moving when she prodded him up the bed so she could pull the covers out from under him. Finally managing to yank the sheet out from under his butt, miraculously without waking him, she slipped into bed next to him and pulled the sheets over them. She felt arms wrap around her middle and pull her close, the slight warmth of his arc reactor pressed up against her back. Tony nuzzled his nose into her hair, presumably still in his sleep, and she twined a hand into his. She sent a feeler out over Extremis to JARVIS, who obligingly turned the lights off, reducing the light in the room to the soft glow peeking out from between his chest and her back. “Goodnight, JARVIS,”

“Goodnight, Ma’am.”

This was all she ever wanted. Tony curled up safe and sound next to her, the rest of their little ragtag family scattered through the tower, JARVIS keeping a watchful eye over them all.


End file.
